Team Gale: A Hunger Games fanfiction
by turtlebaby4
Summary: POV changes between Gale and Katniss as they both go into the arena, along with another male and female, as this is a special Games. Gale and Peeta compete for Katniss' hand; so who will win?
1. Chapter 1Gale POV

Chapter One/Gale's POV

I've been up since dawn. The first I did was check my snares, where I found a large squirrel and two rabbits hanging. I knew Katniss wouldn't be out until later, so I went to the square to see what I could get as a present to her. The baker sold me a loaf of bread with nuts and raisins for only a squirrel. Perhaps a sentimental gift? After all, it is the Reaping day. I wouldn't be surprised.

Now I'm back in the woods, waiting at ours - mine and Katniss' - special place. It's a small hill overlooking a lush green valley, away from prying eyes. I know that Katniss will be upset this morning; it is her sister's first Reaping, after all. So I stick an arrow in the loaf of bread, hoping I'll be able to make her laugh.

I don't have to wait long. Within a few minutes, Katniss is coming through the trees, her shadow alerting me to her presence. "Hey, Catnip," I greet her, using our old nickname. She smiles as she only ever does in the woods and sits down next to me.

Once she's comfortable, I hold up the loaf of bread. "Look what I shot," I joke. Katniss laughs and the sound warms me. She takes the bread in her hands and pulls out the arrow, sniffs it, and comments, "Mmm, still warm. What did it cost you?" "Just a squirrel. Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning. Even wished me luck," I tell her.

Katniss says wryly, "Well, we all feel a little closer, don't we?" She pulls out a round yellow circle. "Prim left us a cheese." Prim is her twelve-year-old sister. I brighten considerably. "Thank you, Prim. We'll have a real feast."

Another chance to make Katniss laugh presents itself. "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" I say, plucking a blackberry from a nearby bush. "And may the odds - " I throw the berry high into the air towards her. She catches it and finishes, "-be _ever _in your favor!"

I pull out my hunting knife and slice the bread. I can feel her watching me, but I try to concentrate on the task at hand. Even still, my mind wanders.

The two of us look a lot alike: olive complexions, black hair, gray eyes. Like most people in the Seam. It would make for good pictures, and gorgeous children, if they looked like their mom…

The bread is at the last loaf and I stop, silently scolding myself for such thoughts. _Stupid, Gale, real stupid. Just focus, would you? _I take the goat cheese and spread it evenly on the bread. There are basil leaves around us, so I pluck them and place one carefully on each slice. Katniss plucks berries from the bushes, and we settle back to eat.

If only this was only just a holiday! If only it wasn't the Reaping day, where we have to be in the square by two o'clock sharp instead of spending all day hunting with Katniss. Waiting, panicking silently, hoping that I don't hear her name being called out.

An idea hits me, and I say quietly, almost whispering, "We could do it, you know." She looks confused. "What?" "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it." When she doesn't respond, I add, "If we didn't have so many kids."

They aren't really our kids, but they might as be. My two little brothers and one sister, and my mom. Katniss' little sister and her mother. We couldn't leave them behind, not where they'd go hungry in less than a week.

Katniss sighs. "I never want to have kids." "I might. If I didn't live here," I reply. She sounds annoyed when she answers, "But you do." "Forget it," I snap.

I can't tell what she's thinking, but it looks like she's remembering something. Which of course, makes me remember how we were when we first met. When Katniss was twelve years old, a short, scrawny little thing, and I was fourteen. She admitted to me once that she thought I had already looked like a man. We argued a lot at first, but eventually we managed to help each other out.

Katniss breaks me out of my thoughts when she asks what I want to do. There's hunting, fishing, or gathering. I choose fishing and add, "We can leave our poles and gather in the woods. Get something nice for tonight."

We end up with a dozen fish, a full bag of greens, and an entire gallon of strawberries. The mayor loves strawberries, and he can afford our price for them, so this is a great find.

The two of us go to the Hob on our way home. The Hob is a black market set in an abandoned warehouse. We trade six fish for good bread, and two for salt. We also get a few chunks of paraffin for half the greens.

After that, we go to the mayor's house to sell the strawberries. We're greeted by his daughter, Madge, who's wearing a pretty white dress. I'm not sure why, but it rubs me the wrong way when she responds to my comment on it with, "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"

I tell her she isn't going to the capitol. She can only have, what, five entries? "I had six when I was twelve years old." Katniss defends her. "That isn't her fault." "No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," I say. Madge puts the money in Katniss' hand, wishes her luck, and closes the door.

Katniss and I divide up the rest of our spoils. We each get two fish, two loaves of bread, greens, salt, and a couple chunks of paraffin. Then we say our goodbyes and part.

END OF CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2Gale POV

Chapter Two/Gale's POV

It's almost two o'clock. My siblings aren't yet old enough to enter the Reaping, so I don't have to worry for them. I worry about myself, with my forty-two entries, and more importantly, Katniss. I search the crowd for her now and see her pointing Primrose to a section with the other twelve-year-old kids while she stands with a clump of others from her grade.

I turn my attention to the podium, where the mayor sits on a chair next to the Capitol's very own Effie Trinket, who this year has a wig of pink hair. The third seat is empty. Not surprising, honestly. Haymitch Abernathy, the only living victor of the two that have ever won the Hunger Games from District Twelve, is a complete drunk and is probably hammered right now.

The clock strikes two and Mayor Undersee steps up to the podium, beginning his speech. It's the same one every single year. The speech is Panem's history, telling about the amazing city that rose from the ashes of a place that was once named 'North America.' It tells of droughts, floods, storms, fires, rising seas that swallowed land, wars fought over the remaining sustenance. Then came Panem, with its superficial, artificial, rainbow capitol ringed by thirteen districts.

The mayor's voice lowers when he talks about the Dark Days, when the districts rebelled against the Capitol. Twelve of the districts were defeated, but District Thirteen was completely abolished. The Capitol came up with the Treaty of Treason, which gave Panem the Hunger Games. These Games are meant to make sure that there's no repeat of the Dark Days.

Hunger Games rules are fairly easy. The twelve districts provide a girl and a boy 'tribute' - who are more commonly called 'corpses' here in Twelve - to compete in a hellish arena that can hold anything that the sick Gamemaker minds come up with in a fight to the death. There's only one victor, the last person left alive. The tributes range in ages from twelve to eighteen.

It's sick, the way the Capitol treats the Games. They force the districts to think of it as a sporting even pitting us all against the others, celebrating. The Capitol citizens really do celebrate. Disgusting bastards.

The mayor tells that it's both a time for repentance and a time for thanks. Right.

He reads us the list of District Twelve victors - only two, and only one still alive. That man appears on stage right now, drunk off his ass and yelling something unintelligible. He falls into the third chair. When the crowd applauds, he gets confused and attempts to give Effie Trinket a hug, which lists her bubblegum hair severely to the side. The mayor tries to bring some order back to the stage by introducing Effie.

She canters up the podium and gives the line that's so familiar I mouth it along with her, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!" in her silly Capitol accent. Even though we all know that she hates being assigned to District Twelve, she tells us what an absolute honor it is to be here.

I turn my head slightly and find Katniss again, a small smile on my lips. She sees me and presses her lips in a smile, too. But then I remember the twenty slips with her name on them and my face darkens, and she must be thinking the same of me because her face constricts to a scared look.

Effie Trinket hops over to the girls' glass ball, with thousands of slips that contain all the twelve-to-eighteen year old girls names in them. _Not Katniss, not Katniss, please not Katniss, I can't lose my best friend, _I think, terrified, as Effie says briskly, "Ladies first!" She digs into the bowl, grabs a slip, and goes back to the podium. She opens the paper and reads, "Primrose Everdeen!"

I'm so startled that at first nothing registers. Then I look back to see Prim walking forward, looking as terrified as is possible, and then I see Katniss fall back. A Seam boy catches her arm and she watches, eyes glazed, as her sister walks towards a beckoning Effie Trinket.

All of a sudden, her eyes clear and she lunges forward. Everyone jumps out of the way for her and I step towards the gap in the lines too, unsure of what to do. "Prim! Prim!" Katniss cries out, her voice strangled. She shoves Prim behind her with a single sweep of her arm. "I volunteer!" she shouts. "I volunteer as tribute!"

And just like that, I feel my world dissolve.

End of chapter two


	3. Chapter 3Gale POV

Chapter Three/Gale's POV

Katniss… She's going to be gone. That's all I can think of.

Prim's screams break me out of my paralysis. Not the confusion on the stage, or Effie Trinket's unclear words, or the mayor's. Prim. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" she screams hysterically. Katniss tells her to let go, fighting back tears, I can tell. I hurry forward and peel Prim off of her, ignoring her screams and thrashes.

"Up you go, Catnip," I say in a wavering voice. Katniss nods and goes up the stage, stands next to Effie.

Effie says something, but I've stopped listening. I carry Prim back. Her screams have quieted to shaking sobs, and her thrashes have become weaker. Her mother takes Prim in her arms, cradles her. "I have to go back," I whisper. "Thank you, Gale," their mother whispers back. I duck my head and go back to my spot.

For some reason, Effie moves back to the girls' ball, taking the microphone with her. "Well, I suppose the mayor forgot to tell you. But President Snow has given the districts a special order; instead of the usual two tributes from each district, there will be four! Isn't that exciting!"

Not one person makes a sound. Effie clears her throat, obviously affronted. "Well, all right then. Let's just pick the other girl, shall we?" She reaches deep into the bowl again and pulls out another name, not bothering to go back to the podium, and reads, "Lucy Graffeta." Lucy is an eighteen-year-old in my grade. She's vicious and mean. A good candidate for the Hunger Games, I guess. She even looks excited. How can she look excited?

When she stands next to Katniss, the difference between them is drastic and horrible. Lucy is a town girl, the butcher's daughter. She's tall and muscular from years of hard work and good food. Katniss is small and lean. A thrill of fear for her passes through my head, but I force it down. I can't let myself lose my head.

Effie zips over to the boys' bowl. She doesn't hesitate to pull out both slips at once and opens one of them. "Peeta Mellark."

The name has some effect on Katniss. She goes rigid, stares at the blonde boy who's heading up the stage. I recognize him vaguely. The baker's son. But why does Katniss react to his name like that? I know there's something she told me about him, a very long time ago, when she was thirteen and I fifteen. What was it…

That's right! She had once confessed that she owed him. She never shared what her life was like before she met me, at least not in detail, but her interaction with him was when she was eleven, before me. One day, when she and her family were starving after her father was killed in the same mine blast that took mine, she was sitting at the base of the apple tree in the backyard of the bakery. She said that Peeta had come out with two burned loaves of bread and thrown them her way. He saved her life.

I'm brought back to the present when Effie Trinket starts to speak again. "And for our last tribute from District Twelve, Gale Hawthorne!"

The first thing I register is Katniss, her mouth opening, the tears that she's been fighting finally spilling over. She looks like she's about to drop. The next thing I notice is the absolute silence from the crowd. No one claps, no one says anything. I notice Greasy Sae from the Hob put her face in her hands.

Then I realize I have to move. The other eighteens move out of my way, leaving me a very clear path to the stage. I make my way up, finding my family staring at me, at the other tributes. My mother, too shocked to move. My two brothers, crying. My sister Posy, too young to know what's happening but cries because her brothers do. It almost breaks my resolve, so I look straight ahead.

Mayor Undersee begins the long and dull Treaty of Treason, which he's required to do at this point every year. I'm past listening, though. I look to my left without moving my head, where Katniss stands at my side. Usually, I find the difference in our size funny, but now its terrifying. The thought that I might have to kill her crosses through my mind and I shove it away, furious with myself. _Never. _I would rather kill myself.

I try to listen to the mayor's speech, but then a small hand slips into mine and all thought disappears again. I give Katniss' hand a squeeze and feel her squeeze back. _It'll be okay, _I want to whisper. _I'll protect you. _But there's no way to say it now.

As soon as the mayor is finished speaking, Peacekeepers in crisp white uniforms herd all four of us into the Justice Building. We're each directed into our own rooms with soft couches, warm air. Too warm. "You will have one hour for goodbyes," the Peacekeeper says shortly, and leaves me alone. I sit on the couch and wait.


	4. Chapter 4Peeta POV

Chapter Four/Peeta's POV

The room is comfortable. But stuffy. It brings a claustrophobia I didn't know I had to the surface. Or maybe that's just my overwhelming fear. I hear the Peacekeeper vaguely telling me it's time for goodbyes, but I don't acknowledge him.

My parents are the first ones in. My father sweeps in and hugs me tightly. I'm surprised to see unshed tears sparkling in his eyes. "You can do this, Peeta. You're strong. Really. Hand-to-hand combat is a factor; please, just listen to your mentor and come back to us." I nod, swallowing, and he backs away.

Mother walks forward and stands in front of me. There's no tears in _her _eyes, but there is sadness. "You know, District Twelve might have a victor this year," she says thoughtfully. Have I really made her this sure of me? "She's a survivor, that one." My heart drops. Of course, she doesn't mean me. "Who? Lucy?" I ask bitterly. "Of course not. The one with the squirrels. Katniss, if I'm correct," my mother tells me. "Yes. Katniss."

Father shoots Mother a glare. "Stop that! Peeta is just as capable. He has to be," he snaps. Just then, a Peacekeeper pokes his head into the room. "That's time. Your next visitors are coming." My parents leave the room, and my two brothers come in. My oldest brother, Randy, stands in front of me awkwardly. He's like my mother in some ways, but not as cruel. "You can do this, Peeta. Don't go down without a fight, but more importantly, don't go down." Jonas, who's eighteen, sits next to me on the couch and wraps me in another hug. "Exactly. You have to come to us, Peet. Got it? You can't leave us. We'll be vouching for you all the way."

Jonas' words push me over the edge and a sob wracks my body. Randy starts, but doesn't know what to do. Jonas simply lets me lean on his shoulder. Weak. Coward. That's what the commentators will call me when the cameras find me again at the train station, but I don't care. I just don't.

The Peacekeeper enters again to call my brothers out, but Randy grabs my shoulders at the last moment. "I know, Peeta. About Katniss. I'll make sure her sister is okay. I'll make sure!" he promises as the Peacekeeper pulls him away. I'm left stunned as the door closes behind them.

How can he know? About that day in the rain when I was eleven years old, watching the girl I'd been crushing on since kindergarten die of starvation? Or does he mean that he knows I like her? That must have been what he meant, because he promised to watch over her sister. I'm confused, scared out of my mind, stunned, furious at my mother. But underneath that… Am I relieved? Because even if Katniss is dead - gone - their will still be some remnant left of her in this world, in her sister? Not that I'd ever go for Primrose, of course, but it would be a relief to know that Katniss is still out there somewhere.

I lean back against the couch and let myself cry. Who cares if the cameras see me with a red nose, puffy eyes? Who cares? Certainly not me. Perhaps it will work out for me, like it did a few years back from a tribute that pretended to be a complete weakling until the final few. She ended up killing savagely.

Forty-five minutes later, after visits from friends and distant relatives, I'm led away to the train station. I can see the other tributes - Lucy, Gale, Katniss - being led by other Peacekeepers. At one point, I notice Katniss stumble over the uneven pavement. A Peacekeeper reaches out to push her forward, and Gale growls something I don't catch at him. What are the two of them? Katniss and Gale? I don't let myself dwell on it, especially not when Effie Trinket appears to guide us onto the train.

The train car is lush and bright. There's tables of food and comfortable velvet seats. Lucy chooses a spot at the far end of the car. When I go to try to talk to her, she just spits at me, "Get lost, doughboy!"

I do. Quickly.

Katniss sits alone, staring out the window. Gale is picking up two bowls of stew at one of the tables. I slide into the car across from her. "Um… Hi," I greet. Katniss jumps, whips around, and relaxes when she sees it's me. "Oh. Hi," she replies. She seems at a loss for words, but I'm not any better.

We sit there in awkward silence until Gale, the tall boy that I see at her side all the time, plops down next to her. "Here. I got you some food," he says, passing her one of the bowls. She thanks him quietly and takes a bite. I'm not sure what to do, when Gale turns to look at me. His eyes are the same gray as hers, a fact that makes me realize just how much I like her when I only notice his eye color now that they're boring into mine and I know hers even when I've never spoken to her directly.

"You're Peeta, right?" Gale asks, which instantly sets me on edge. Why does he want to speak to me? He's two years older than I am, in Randy's class. Randy once told me he'd noticed that Gale Hawthorne had a habit of staying in the background, never the limelight, listening but rarely speaking. And when he did talk, he had a strong voice, an even stronger opinion. It unnerved him, and I can see why.

I shake away my thoughts and nod tersely. "Yes. I am. Why?" I ask coolly. In my peripheral vision, I can see Katniss tense, like she's ready to spring away. Why? Is Gale going to attack me? Something in her expression makes me think it'll be worse. "I wanted to thank you," Gale says. Both Katniss and I do a double-take. "Th-thank me? Why?" I ask, utterly confused.

Gale sounds uncomfortable. Maybe he hoped I would understand on my own, but I don't. "Well… because… I don't know any details, really, but Katniss told me a long time ago that you saved her life once. If you hadn't, I never would have met my best friend." He chuckles quietly. "My only friend, really." "Oh. Um… I mean, it's what any decent person would do, right?" I can feel my face turning red. Katniss mutters something I don't hear. Gale looks down at her. He heard. "What?" I ask. She repeats herself, slightly louder but still a whisper. "Your mother didn't. She saw me, but she yelled at me. Chased me away."

Right. I remember hearing my mother screaming, but I didn't know what it was about. She was telling Katniss to leave? Condemning her to death? That must have been what she meant by saying that Katniss was a survivor in the room back in the Justice Building. I feel my anger at her return.

I don't have an answer to Katniss' comment, so I don't say anything. She goes back to looking out of the window, watching the landscape flash by, but not before she reaches for Gale's hand.

As discreetly as I can, I observe their demeanor. They seem completely comfortable holding hands, but not in a boyfriend/girlfriend way. It's more like they're steadying each other. Maybe like siblings would. Gale rubs his thumb in concentric circles on the top of her hand. They're both lost in their own thoughts, not in each other like significant others. And Gale called her his best friend; no, I conclude, they're not a couple. But they're definitely close.

I decide to look out the window too, and I'm like that for about five minutes before Katniss stands. "I'm going to go to bed," she says. It's still light out, but no one argues. Gale just releases her hand and settles back in his chair. "Okay. Goodnight."

A few minutes later, Lucy gets up and silently goes to her compartment, as well, and it's just me and Gale. I'm on edge, but I don't let it show.

After a while, I can feel the eighteen-year-old's gaze on me. I turn my head and meet his eyes, which I know instantly is a bad idea. But now that I've acknowledged him, there's no going back.


End file.
